


Sea of Dreams

by wooyoungies



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: All Magic Comes With a Price, Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blood Magic, Blow Jobs, Cursed and Gifted, Fantasy, Ghost Hunting, Lots of kissing, M/M, Magical Realism, Masturbation, Rimming, Rituals, San Wears Eyeliner, Sea Witch Wooyoung, Supernatural Elements, The Setting Is On An Island, Witch San, not as angsty as you think
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-03-08 05:23:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18888025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wooyoungies/pseuds/wooyoungies
Summary: He leaned forward over the counter, the satin buttons of his shirt thudding lightly on the wooden surface, bringing his face only two feet away from Wooyoung’s- it was enough to be personal but not intimate. Yet, the way he said,“It’s a secret”, landed in Wooyoung’s gut with a heavythudand felt like San had just kissed him.OrThe storm had been brewing for a while now on Heuksando and it was slowly filling the air with a deep milky fog. The the birds had grown restless, the fairies flitted nervously collecting dead bugs to bring back to the rusted salt rocks, and Wooyoung’s skin prickled when he would walk the shore. He could taste blood in his mouth when he woke this morning, the gray sky reflecting off his dark eyes- the tides in his veins.





	1. Hear it call

**Author's Note:**

> TW: Mentions of blood and blood magic

Wooyoung can speak to the sea. 

The storm had been brewing for a while now on Heuksando. It was slowly filling the air with a deep milky fog, the birds had grown restless, the fairies flitted nervously collecting dead bugs to bring back to the rusted salt rocks, and Wooyoung’s skin prickled when he would walk the shore. He could taste blood in his mouth when he woke this morning, the gray sky reflecting off his dark eyes- the tides in his veins. 

The blood was bitter and tasted of pennies that were found at the bottom of the Yellow Sea, but familiar, as he had grown used to it. 

_Nonsense- Foamers exist, boy. They aren’t just some fucking fairytale- what kind of person thinks that the sea speaks only to the sky and to the things inside it? Especially ones who believed that it didn’t happen before. Old women and their attempts at witchery. Witches, all of them._

Wooyoung hears Nanu’s voice so clearly in his head, his voice as gruff as the salted crust that wraps their fingers around the pier and hugs the bellies of the ships in their docks. The cold of Heuksando only hardened the crusts and made them too sharp for the islander’s likings. They would hastily pull the children away from the wooden poles, and the kids would cry into their wool coats, as the slice in their hand weeped blood into the sea. 

An offering of sorts. 

_Sorry_ the ocean would coo, and the small waves would swallow back the crimson into the mouth of the void. 

Wooyoung shuddered- the ocean was infinite. The mass of ancient waters knew everything, every secret in the raindrops that pulled up into the loom of the sky above, and the foam of the sea carried the world. The Yellow Sea was ancient, its waters all knowing, and there since the beginning of time. But just Southwest was a more modern place, the mainland. 

Mokpo, Jeollanam-do. 

Where the kids would move away in a hurry as soon as the sweet age of eighteen hit their tongues, their intentions clear as sea glass and dollar signs in their eyes. It was never personal to leave the island, but the elders took it that way. The kids were in search of something more, something that wasn’t so gray and looming as Heuksando. Wooyoung’s older brother had always said, “ _It’s too cold here anyways- don't you feel that way too? It’s like I have never been warm._

So, he left to the mainland, and so did almost all of the kids. 

It had such a distinct difference from the tiny Island that was Heuksando, which only held about 3,133 people. Mokpo held up to 200,000 and often, the sea would bring secrets of the big city down the current to Wooyoung’s ear. 

The sea had always whispered to him, shifting their connection of water, shifting their currents and tides to his head, filling him with knowledge and old tales. He didn’t ever really want to believe it, but you could only ignore the sea for so long, before it grew angry with him and did something that he was going to regret- he didn’t want to anger the thing larger than life. 

It was _alive_

Growing up, the sea would always pull their tides closer to shore when he was on the muddy sand with his friends, or when he was with his parents. It would tell him _things_ that always came true. Or, even better, it would tell him the secrets of the island. 

_There once was a boy with a gift like you._

_Speaker of ghosts_

_Witch_

Wooyoung looked out at the sea, spitting out blood. 

_Blood fills my mouth, the tides seemingly pulling me into the Yellow Sea. The blood tastes bitter, and sour. It is not just regular crimson fluid- it is the taste of murder, secrecy, and ichor._

He remembers the quote he read in the journals, a quote from an islander that seemed to be the same too, a speaker of the sea. 

Wooyoung knew something was different, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Something in the sea wasn’t just wrong, it was terribly wrong, and it had been for a long time, ever since Wooyoung could feel the ocean on his fingertips. The feelings had only increased the older he got, and the more he ignored it. Every storm had made him anxious, the rolling thunder crashing harder on his heart, the angry waves that slammed on the shore made him bite his nails down even deeper to the nail bed. 

The storm had been brewing for a while now. 

Wooyoung can speak to the sea. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sometimes Wooyoung thought about leaving the island. 

Sometimes, when the sun had faded away and the night’s evening had cast navy blue whispers across the smiles of the hills, he would step out to the sea. He would let the wet sand wash over his toes, the crisp coolness of the water would snip at his ankles and the waves would curl around his ankles, _don’t go._

He would walk further into the frigid body, his knees wet and bleeding, pouring his old secrecy into the waves that held their cups up for offering, and the Sea would swallow the drink whole with one gulp and a cool, chilling smile. 

“Wooyoung.” 

Nanu’s voice was clear, yet gruff as he called from the mini cliff above. 

He watched as the old drunk hobbled down to the rocky shore, and he saw the old man’s knees shake with holding his large body up. Wooyoung turned to face him and the wind from the southwest whipped his black hair into his face and curled their locks around the sharp edges of Wooyoung’s nose. Wooyoung did the standard bow in greeting, and he quickly climbed part way up the rocks to help Nanu reach the shore, but he only waved him away with a salt wrinkled hand- he didn’t want his help. Which wasn’t odd behavior from the elder man, he never asked for help. Unless it involved a ride home up the hill that he stumbled on. 

“Talking to the sea?” Nanu asked as they made it to the line of the Yellow Sea, its tendrils of waves crawling up the shore like something out of a horror movie and Wooyoung tried to keep his face passive as the sea spoke only to him. 

Wooyoung’s voice was grim, “You could say so.” 

He didn’t like when the old man was right- he knew and saw too much. In fact, all of the elders knew Wooyoung too well. _Tagonan_ , gifted, was what they called him. 

Though Hongjoong always said that they didn’t mean anything mean by the word because if anything they thought what Wooyoung had was a blessing. Hongjoong had teased him and said that he should count his lucky stones and call himself average. 

_“It is all total nonsense anyways Wooyoung, you know they are just old and believe in that old fairy tale shit. We know you don’t really talk to the sea and do witchy stuff to it, it’s not the 13th century- this town is just stuck in the past because we are in the middle of nowhere. Besides, the witches were just old tales and they were only rumoured to be here once."_

Hongjoong would wave his hand and only wrap his arms around Wooyoung's shoulders, _"Do you think if we showed them cell phones they would combust?”_

Wooyoung really wanted to tell Hongjoong that he was so wrong, so incredibly wrong that it was almost humorous. All of his friends told Wooyoung that he was comical and that he had no need to be scared of the elders telling him that the sea was going to one day swallow him whole. 

_”Children’s tales! Now come down and swim with us, the sea isn’t going to drag you under Wooyoungie!”_

Wooyoung was brought back to the present by Nanu pulling out his flask and unscrewing the top with one swift motion of his thick thumb and pointer finger- he took a deep swig and shook his head at the rough impact the alcohol made as it hit his throat. Nanu cursed, “Damn, that is good.” 

Wooyoung raised an eyebrow, and Nanu looked down at the flask and back up at him, “Want a drink, boy?” 

“I will pass.” 

Nanu shrugged, “Suit yourself. One day I will get you to drink with me,” he pointed a shaky finger in Wooyoung’s face, “It might relax you.” 

Wooyoung rolled his eyes, “I am relaxed.” Which was a total lie, the sea had him on edge this past month and he knew that something was different, something was _disparate._

“Right, and the President might visit this damned place tomorrow.” 

Wooyoung scowled at Nanu’s sarcasm, and he turned to face back towards the sea and he then squatted down to let the pads of his fingers hit the surface of the water. It nipped playfully at his digits and greeted him with a sharp twist of cold to his palms. The sea was hurting. Warning. He could taste the blood in his mouth- he had for a while now. This whole sea-reading-thing had become easy to him once he had accepted it- well, he was basically forced by the waters to welcome them into his life. He just wanted to have some normalcy if he could, so he acted like he had accepted the talking, the whispers. 

He would wake up in a salty sweat and ocean tears pouring from his eyes, _come say hi_

Nanu leaned down, alcohol waving off his voice and meeting Wooyoung’s face. “What is she saying?” 

Wooyoung decided to humor him, and he closed his eyes like he was pretending to gather a deeper reading from the humming surface beneath his now wet hands. Wooyoung furrowed his brows for extra measure and let his mouth drop open a bit, as if he was searching for the words. 

“To fuck off, Nanu.” 

Nanu pushed his shoulder gruffly, causing Wooyoung to stumble and catch himself with both hands in the wet sand that disappeared underneath his palms and then curled back over his veins. The water came up to his elbows and eagerly wrapped around the bones in his forearms. 

“No respect for your damn elders, Wooyoung. You have a gift-” 

“-so start using it properly, blah, blah, blah.” Hongjoong’s voice came from the other side of Wooyoung, and he looked up to see his best friend with his arms crossed over his chest. His blue hair whipped in the wind too and he reached a slender hand out for Wooyoung to grab. Wooyoung grabbed his hand, wet sand slowly sliding down his arms and dripping back into the sea where it belonged. 

Nanu grumbled and he took another swig from his classic gray flask. “Brats.” 

Hongjoong rolled his eyes, his voice sour. “Crazy.” 

Nanu scanned Hongjoong from head to toe and narrowed his dark eyes, “You don’t believe that this young man here has the gift, that he isn’t a foamer, pretty boy?” 

“Only you and the rest of the crazy old people believe that. Stop spouting nonsense at him, Heejin is missing your tipping money at the bar.” 

Wooyoung really did appreciate Hongjoong- but he couldn’t help but wince when his best friend defended him, since Wooyoung was _lying_ to him. He felt like he was betraying the older boy filled with nothing but honesty and brevity. 

The old man snorted at the two boys and he turned back around in annoyance, heading towards the small town, most likely back towards the bar. He paused before he took his steps and he turned around to face them, his knees still wobbling from age or from the clear liquid in his flask. 

“Just be happy your friend is _tagonan_ and not a _jeoju like the other boy._

_A cursed._

He left the two on the shore and Hongjoong and Wooyoung watched as he climbed back up the rocky hills, grey and black stones tumbling down in his wake after his foot left the rocky terrain. 

“His family needs to drop him off at the mainland already in one of those nursing homes. Can you imagine not having Nanu speaking like a prophet into your ear every day?” Hongjoong said as his eyes followed the old man’s retreating figure towards the town. 

Wooyoung watched as a stone black as the nights of Heuksando dance and roll down the hill and into the waves. 

Hongjoong didn’t see Wooyoung spit out the blood. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

_“What is she saying?”_

_Wooyoung decided to humor him, and he closed his eyes like he was pretending to gather a deeper reading from the humming surface beneath his now wet hands. Wooyoung furrowed his brows for extra measure and let his mouth drop open a bit, as if he was searching for the words._

_“To fuck off, Nanu.”_

That isn’t what the sea told him, it told him something completely different as his palm opened into the cold water, a blossoming flower in winter with edges painted with frost. The sea had whispered with their many voices, voices so loud sometimes that Wooyoung had to slap his hands over his ears to drown out the waves. 

The sea had said something much different- _danger._

When Wooyoung had closed his eyes he had tasted the bitter blood that started underneath his tongue and rolled over his teeth in anticipation, as if the water had been waiting for him to listen for a while now. A sort of urgency could be found in the gritty salt crusted greeting. 

_Witch_

“Are you letting him get to you?” Hongjoong asked Wooyoung as they walked the path back towards the town. Nanu had probably made it by now, if his knees didn’t give out on him just yet. Or his old heart- Wooyoung didn’t think he would grieve too much. 

Wooyoung kicked a stick out of the way and he shrugged, “He has been saying this kind of shit for years, I am not too concerned. I am more concerned about the fact that you knew to come in at the right time.” 

Hongjoong shot him a smile, a white smile that was famous in the town for being so beautiful. 

Hongjoong was more of a golden boy, outshining his quiet best friend Wooyoung- not that he minded. He liked to have the attention off of him if he were to be honest, it was a breath of fresh air when the elders that liked to whisper would start whispering about Hongjoong instead. Hongjoong knew he was beautiful, his constant change of hair color (which was now a dark blue that resembled the navy waters that spun around rocks) was eye catching and his personality that shined like the sun reflecting on lilies often caught the eye of Heuksando and made him as golden as honey that dripped between fingertips during the summer. 

As golden as the rare sun that pushed through dark gray masses of clouds every once in a while, its appearance bringing some relief to the citizens. Although, his parent’s generation and the elders often scowled at the sun, deeming it a curse. 

“Don’t give me too much credit, I was looking for you anyways,” said Hongjoong as they trekked their way further uphill. He paused to catch his breath, both still not accustomed to the large incline that sat Heuksando high above the world, it’s presence small but yet infinite in living. Hongjoong spoke to Wooyoung again after resting on a large rock, the prairie grass around them whipped with the wind that was gathering speed. Wooyoung looked up at the sky that was darker than usual, and he turned to look back at the sea off the cliff, as it was now hastening and shaping the rocks that littered the shore- a storm was brewing. 

“You were looking for me?” 

“They need someone to take the shift tonight and I have somewhere to be.”  
“ _You_ have somewhere to be?” Wooyoung asked, letting himself laugh to tease at Hongjoong, who was now scowling. He got up off the rock to whack Wooyoung’s arm and he sniffed, “ _Yes_ , my mom needs help watching the twins. For some reason they have been restless and Jihyo tried to drown the cat-” 

“-she _what_? How are you going to casually drop that?” 

Hongjoong waved his hand, as if it wasn’t a big deal, but the slight creases in his brow told Wooyoung, his best friend for 19 years, different. Wooyoung shook his head, his voice high. 

“Jihyo and Sana love Momo-” 

“Yeah, which is why mom kind of flipped her shit. She said she walked in and she had the bathtub already filled and that it was practically _overflowing_ and spilling onto the floor but it was like Jihyo didn’t even notice. She didn’t even turn around or act caught when mom walked in.” Hongjoong bit his nails and his eyes darted to the sea, raindrops now slowly hitting their bodies as they stood. Wooyoung pulled Hongjoong off the rock and they began to jog back, the rain still in a steady drizzle. 

“Where was Sana?” 

“In her room crying- Jihyo had hit her and she was bleeding. Mom had to shake Jihyo to get her to listen.” 

“What did she say afterwards?” 

“Nothing. That’s the thing- Mom wants to take her to the mainland to see a professional.” 

Hongjoong looked troubled as he told the story and he shook his head like he was shaking the thoughts out of his mind and out into the tall tan grass that decorated the islands center. Wooyoung’s stomach twisted at the tale- the twins never fought, nor caused trouble. Jihyo and Sana were only seven years old, but they had never fought so violently, only yelling over who got to watch the tv first, but it had never ended in blood and Jihyo trying to drown their cat Momo. 

“Don’t worry about it Joong, I had nothing to do tonight anyways. The bookshop should be dead since it is Tuesday and it’s storming.” Wooyoung replied, hoping to ease his friend’s clear worries. It was odd to see Hongjoong in such an obvious state of anxiety. 

“The storm never keeps the elders away.” Hongjoong said with annoyance. 

“It keeps people that we know away, though.” 

“I am ready to keep away myself.” Hongjoong joked in a playful tone, but Wooyoung didn’t think he was kidding. He was kind of expecting Hongjoong to move away from Heuksando and move to the mainland, somewhere Southwest, somewhere like Mokpo, Jeollanam-do where the population was so big you were guaranteed not to see the same person twice. 

Not like Heuksando where you would see the same person twice, and twice a day. Wooyoung laughed with him, yet he knew Hongjoong’s modern spirit was ready for something bigger than what the island could ever offer. Hongjoong was capable of better things, he was capable of making it out there. Almost every teenager had left once they turned eighteen for the mainland and they hadn’t looked back- or called. 

The two had finally made it back to town, jogging faster for the cover the awnings on the neighboring buildings provided. The rain was now pouring heavily and it was hard to hear the other under the roaring sound of the wind and water crashing to the ground in fat droplets. The wind blew so hard that it began to pull the rain sideways, and Hongjoong shouted at Wooyoung, “Thanks for covering me tonight! I owe you one!” He left with a wave and a sprint back towards his house. Wooyoung didn’t want to run back to his house even though it was close- his shift started in twenty minutes either way and it was getting dark, and the storm, getting worse. 

 

 

 

 

Working at the bookshop really was not that hard- it was just sifting through old novels that no one ever touched besides a few elders who were bored, or it was categorizing historical documents into alphabetical order. Sometimes Wooyoung would dust for fun. 

The bookshop, _The Corner_ , was a tiny store that held an array of weird trinkets and glass figurines (thanks to the owner, Mingi, who had a rather peculiar thing for small, odd things. Much like his boyfriend Jongho, who himself was small and odd) that lined shelves and corners. Wooyoung just dusted around the creepy pieces, sometimes turning the faces towards the wall- he felt like he was being watched. 

It wasn’t like it was impossible for inanimate objects to be personified or animated- the sea fucking _spoke_ to him. 

He would simply turn the figurines the other way and continue to sweep or finish whatever task Mingi had set out for him. Mingi’s dad had passed, passing on the shop to his only child and he took his job as owner very seriously. 

Meaning, he moved to the mainland and just sent packages of his stupid knick knacks for Wooyoung to put up. 

 

_Dear Wooyoung,_

_Can you put this little glass frog (wrapped in the frog wrapping paper, by the way) on the realistic fiction section? Maybe Shelf F if we are feeling like taking risks! Get it, F for frog? I hope you’re dusting._

_Love,_

_Mingi_

 

Wooyoung had just rolled his eyes and tossed the package to the side- Mingi would never know that he didn’t put it up on display, right? Though, when Mingi dropped a random visit from the mainland he was in for a shock when his frog, Fred, was not on the shelf. He wasn’t in shock that everything was free of dust, though. 

But, Mingi paid well and he had an other shop that had much more business to take care of in Mokpo, so he rarely ever stopped by to critique Wooyoung or Hongjoong. It was basically a job that paid you to sit and find something better to do with your time. 

Now that Wooyoung was out of school, he didn’t have any homework to work on and he had the unfortunate luck to have a zero amount of cell service since the shop was one of the shops closest to the sea. If he just looked right, he would be able to see the Yellow Sea foaming and spinning pirouette outside, which didn’t give him much comfort. He liked to _not_ think of the thing that spoke to him in whispers and filled his mouth with blood when it had something important to share. 

And at the moment, his mouth was filling with blood. 

“Fuck,” Wooyoung cursed turning to find the bin just around the corner of the counter. 

_I don’t want to listen to you right now._ Wooyoung thought, trying to push it out with the rain to the sea. 

Wooyoung spit out the glob into the empty trashcan beside him, his mouth puckering in disgust at the bitter and rusty taste. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and coughed- more blood was coming. This time, it felt heavy, almost thick. 

Wooyoung in a panic of getting it on his gray sweatshirt, grabbed his tea next to him and tried to use it as a makeshift rinse for the nasty liquid- but it only made things worse. The mixture of the milky tea and blood was not pleasant and Wooyoung had to hop off the stool at the counter and bend down to grab the waste basket with both hands. Wooyoung winced in disgust as he saw the thick balls of blood trail down the white sides of the trashcan like ancient tears. 

He could hear the water speaking to him and the wind shaking the roof of the store and the screams of rain hitting the glass windows with force. There was in urgency- something or someone was coming. 

_Witch. Witch. Witch._

His palms were sweaty and the storm howled outside- so loud, in fact, that he didn’t hear the customer come in. 

“Hello?” A soft voice rang out, a stark contrast against the war outside. The voice was bell like- a whisper of bracelets that sang in the wind, a tinkering of glass chimes in spurs of three, and a seductive hum. 

The sea grew quiet instantly. 

Wooyoung stood up to look over the counter, his ears still ringing, and he was met with Choi San staring back at him just inside the store by three feet. 

Their eyes met for a moment, Wooyoung knew that confusion was obvious on his face- no, maybe shock. Although, he shouldn’t be in a state of wonder because everyone knew Choi San, and Wooyoung had seen him around a lot. They had even gone to school together and they were both in the same grades. But, Wooyoung hadn’t seen San since graduation, which was 3 months ago. 

San’s eyes were a sort of amber color, but at the moment they seemed more golden than ever. It was as if they were glowing. 

His hair was the deepest black in contrast to his eyes and his sweeping lashes that rimmed them were smoky. His entire existence radiated _dark_ , but yet his aura was silent- almost soft. The sea stopped their whispers and the blood in his mouth grew still- San hesitated and then stepped forward to go to the counter. 

“You have blood on hands and mouth.” 

“What?” 

“You have blood on your hands and mouth,” San repeated, looking amused. His head tilted to the side and his earring dangled and winked as Wooyoung quickly said an, “ _Oh._ ” 

San looked like he wanted to ask Wooyoung something, but he then seemed to stop himself. 

Wooyoung grabbed the napkins next to the coffee maker in the corner- he could feel San’s eyes on him the entire time. The hair on his neck stood up and he quickly turned around to have his back face him. Wooyoung wiped off the blood and then spit into the trashcan one more time for good measure. 

San raised an eyebrow as he watched Wooyoung spit, “Do I need to call someone?” 

“No- I-I do that a lot.” 

“Bleed so heavily it gets on your hands and comes out of your mouth?” 

Wooyoung found himself breathless in Choi San’s gaze and he bit his lips nervously. “Yeah.” 

San shrugged, amusement now heavier on his face. “I suggest letting your blood drop on a cloth, preferably linen, and then burn it. I heard it is good to stop the bleeding, or to stop the bleeding that you feel coming on ahead of time.” 

_Or to stop the bleeding that you feel coming on ahead of time_

Wooyoung stared for a moment, the only sound being the rain that was still slamming the grounds outside. 

The sea was still silent. 

Waiting. 

“Thank you-I will try that next time.” Wooyoung said, a small, kind smile playing on his lips. His best customer smile. San saw right through it. Wooyoung wouldn’t try that next time, and San knew. San watched Wooyoung’s lips as he smiled and his amber eyes flickered back up to Wooyoung’s dark ones and he smiled back. 

“That is all I could ask for, I suppose.” 

Yeah, Choi San was a bit… _odd_ and he gave Wooyoung the same feeling as Mingi’s glass figurines and trinkets did, both having an unsettling presence. It was something Wooyoung couldn’t quite put his finger on. He had known Choi San his entire life but had probably only had around five conversations in total, the rest of the time the boy’s name was brought up, it was in ill meaning. 

San hadn’t done anything wrong besides exist, but to some, that was enough. The elders often took him with caution and would subtly glare or scowl in his direction. Wooyoung may have only talked to the boy a handful of times, but he had been talked about in town more than fingers and toes could count. Nanu had whispered to Wooyoung one day in town when San had passed by, heading down to the sea. “ _Jeoju_ ”. 

_Curse._

_Cursed._

Wooyoung remembers San’s coy eyes flitting to the two, and the sky had seemed to darken with his gaze, like he had _heard_ them speak, like he had heard Nanu’s words roll off of his tongue. 

Wooyoung didn’t have a problem with him, not at all. Choi San had yet to do anything wrong to him, in fact, he had been nothing but civil to everyone, even if they had spoken poorly about him. That would probably make up the entire population though, since everyone always had something to say on an island this small. 

San was a little weird, and that really didn’t bother Wooyoung because he himself was a little off too and he knew what it was like to have people look at him a little longer than acceptable, or to whisper about him. The only difference being that the whispers began to grow into praises, calling him _tagonan_ and then San caught the backlash that Wooyoung used to get. Everyone, being the elders, had always said that Wooyoung was different, as it was common knowledge, but it never stopped him from being able to have friends. 

Well- Hongjoong, as a friend, anyways. 

Wooyoung found himself scanning San’s face- momentarily forgetting how visually stunning the boy was. That too, was common knowledge. 

Choi San was beautiful in the darkest, yet loveliest way. 

Did his ridiculous deep blue satin button up have to hang off of him like that though? 

Wooyoung could hear Nanu’s voice clear in his head, his gruff tone rough like the hardened crust of sea salt and the rocks that were sharpened by the strong currents. 

_”He may be beautiful, boy, but he is bad news. He has brought nothing but bad luck to this island and our sea- can’t you feel it?”_

He had told Wooyoung this when he dropped by his house one evening, bringing back a deep dish that he had used to make his famous vodka cherry pie with. He said he had seen San outside by the cliffs as he was walking over and that “Choi San kid” was knee deep in the water. 

_He seemed to have something in his hand too- I promise you Wooyoung. He is probably getting ready to curse us! It is probably a rock soaked in cat blood- the only way to bring back the dead. He is doing witchcraft.”_

Wooyoung’s mom had rolled her eyes, and pushed Nanu out the door, _“Leave the poor boys alone, Nanu. This nonsense has to stop because my Wooyoung is having nightmares because of your shit talking- give me back my deep dish and go back to the damn bar._ ” 

Word had spread quickly enough with Nanu’s loud mouth and the rest of the elders at the bar spilling ancient secrets to anyone who would listen. 

Nanu was wrong about one thing- San wasn’t knee deep in the water, he needed to be completely submerged for the ritual to work; the ghosts could only speak to you if you were “buried” in a sense. With everyone talking about what Nanu and the elders had said, theories began to emerge. 

Though, the theories had truth to them, and the elders swore they were right. 

Heejin’s cat had came back missing a leg that night and halfway alive. 

“Can I ask something else of you, if you don’t mind?” San’s voice rang in _The Corner’s_ quietly, and his head tilted once more...it seemed to be a habit. What was he listening for? 

“S-Sure.” Wooyoung stuttered, a flush crawling up his cheeks betraying his otherwise calm demeanor. San didn’t have to ask in such a...such a _seductive_ voice. 

“Do you have the archives from the last Jindo Miracle Sea Road festival on Heuksando?” 

The Jindo Miracle Sea Road festival, the day where the sea would part, and lead a walkable trail to the neighboring island, the day of the dead’s passage into the modern world. Wooyoung knew the books and archives like the back of his hand, and they did indeed have the records. The next one was in two weeks and the town had already been in preparation for the big day. Wooyoung could smell the ginger makgeolli. 

Wooyoung came out from behind the counter, feeling underdressed next to San’s lavish style- he dressed like someone from the mainland. Wooyoung’s gray sweatshirt and black jeans paired with a simple pair of vans suddenly felt very plain in comparison to the royal blue satin and tied trousers that San was supporting in an effortless way. 

Wooyoung tried to ignore the way San raised an eyebrow his way when Wooyoung scanned his outfit completely. Wooyoung coughed uncomfortably and he talked as he made his way towards the archives in the corner. San followed suit and he tried not to start walking funny because of the pressure of San’s gaze. 

Were his eyes always this intense, and did they have to always feel like they could see right through your body as if you were made of glass? Wooyoung felt like one of Mingi’s collection of figurines but he felt like a menagerie. 

“The last Sea Road Festival we had was over nineteen years ago-” Wooyoung thumbed through the records as he scanned for the letter F. 

“-I know. I am surprised you know,” San’s voice chimed like silver belled carousels. 

Wooyoung furrowed his eyebrows, _aha!_ he found it, and he turned to face San. 

“Why are you surprised? I work here.” 

“I didn’t expect you to read everything here, I guess.” San replied narrowing his eyes, but not unkindly. It was as if he were changing his mind on something or thinking something through. He looked doubtful for a second. 

Wooyoung walked back to the counter to grab a time stamp and the sign in sheet. “All customers who access records must read them in here and they have to sign this sheet-” Wooyoung said, pulling the binder to him and flipping it around so San could sign. The last signature read two years ago, when Hongjoong had pulled the records about local witchery. 

Wooyoung had the decency to flush and be shy for Hongjoong’s idiocracy, “-Hongjoong swore that Heuksando had witches in the 1800’s and that he was descended from one.” 

San scoffed, “He isn’t.” 

“And how would you know?” Wooyoung replied, a bit of tart to his voice. San seemed pretty sure of everything, huh? 

San finished up his signature that looked like chicken scratch and he set the pen down gently, calmly. He leaned forward over the counter, the buttons of his shirt thudding lightly on the wooden surface, bringing his face only two feet away from Wooyoung’s- It was enough to be personal but not intimate. Yet, the way he said, _“It’s a secret”_ landed in Wooyoung’s gut with a heavy _thud_ and he felt like San had just kissed him. 

In a mere state of panic, Wooyoung said in the silence that felt thick, “Want some tea?” His voice surprisingly calm for the way his heart was thudding. 

Choi San was odd- and he played into that myth about him. 

San looked caught by surprise and he leaned back, the confusion written plain as day on his face, and it was the first time he had seen Choi San have an emotion that wasn’t carefully planned out. 

“Why...would I need tea?” 

Wooyoung patted the record file in San’s grasp, his fingers landing heavily on the file’s thick surface. “Because you have to stay here to read this, Mingi’s rules- and there is a lot of it to go through.” 

San paused, a heartbeat’s silence and he nodded, the tension finally thin enough that Wooyoung could breathe again. “Sure. I like milk in mine.” 

Wooyoung was just happy that he had something to busy himself with- if he were not to be making any tea he would just be standing at the counter doing nothing and fiddling his thumbs; He would be hearing the sea speak to him and beg him to come outside in the tides. 

_Only for one second_ it would coo, the waves washing up on the shore would seem regular but he knew that it was its voice, it’s way of speaking. 

Wooyoung made San’s cup of tea and sat it down at the only table in the entire store, which was diagonal from Wooyoung on his right. He walked back to the counter and he plopped back down on the creaky stool that suddenly seemed 10x louder with company. He really needed to complain to Mingi and claim that the chair was giving him a bad back at a young age, he would tell him that he was going to sue- or something like that. 

Wooyoung looked out the window and at the dark sky, he could see the moon illuminating the rough waters outside and for a moment Wooyoung allowed himself to be wistful. He knew the sea was ancient, beautiful, full of dreams, and he knew that he was _tagonan_ , “gifted” in a sense that he was allowed to talk to a being like that, to a place like that. But, he didn’t understand why it had to hurt so much, why it had to be so confusing. A maddening monster that had beauty. 

San settled down at the table and opened the files carefully like the information was fragile, like he didn’t want to miss a single word. Wooyoung watched as he opened to the first page and sipped on the tea that Wooyoung had brought in a cheesy mug that read _I am AWESOME._

Wooyoung looked back out the window before San could catch him, but he had an inkling that San already knew that he had been staring and watching his every move. He had just hoped that San thought Wooyoung was watching him because he was worried that San was going to steal the records, not that Wooyoung thought he was strikingly beautiful and that he made the sea go silent for once. 

He felt San’s eyes on his body from the corner and he heard his soft, sweet voice speak. 

“Where is Hongjoong?” 

Did San come here often? Or was he just trying to pry? Wooyoung didn’t stop looking at the ocean outside that was still lashing out due to the storm- he was trying to see if he could hear anything but all he heard was silence. A slight static that was so faint that Wooyoung felt like he could have been imagining it. 

“Home.” 

San leaned forward, he knew he was prying but he didn’t seem to care. “Tonight is his shift though.” 

“Do you come here often?” 

San smiled, Wooyoung felt his heart fall to his stomach and the butterflies flew up in disruption and scattered their wings. He looked sly and his grin was coy. 

“Why, Wooyoung, you should know lines like that won’t work on me.” 

Wooyoung felt his face burn and he shook his head, “That wasn’t wh-” 

“-Sure.” San said, twirling his black drawstring on his funny looking pants. He leaned back into the chair and stretched like a cat. Wooyoung watched his every move, feeling mesmerized. 

San began, “But no, I do not come here often.” 

Wooyoung looked at him in confusion. 

“Then how do you know it’s his shift?” 

“It is a secret.” 

Wooyoung huffed, “I am getting really tired of that you know.” 

“Already? I have only said it twice.” 

“Twice is enough.” 

San hummed and he used a spoon to swirl his tea and he smiled to himself, “I would like to make it a third time, everything comes in threes.” 

Wooyoung stared. “What does that mean?” 

“Its a secret.” 

Wooyoung found himself rolling his eyes and he opened up a book that he had sat out for a time he was bored, and he ignored San. The static continued in his ear, seemingly getting louder with time. 

They were silent for a moment as they both leafed through their pages, annoyance obvious in Wooyoung’s posture and brow. He had it furrowed and he tried to relax his face to make it go away, it seemed to be a habit that he had trouble breaking. He didn’t like that his emotions were always so obvious on his face. 

Wooyoung broke the quiet, which kind of surprised himself- as Wooyoung never really talked much, but he was growing to learn already in their short time together that San made him feel unpredictable. 

A lot like the sea. 

“You said it three times.” 

San didn’t look up, but he spoke as he flipped to the next page of the record, his face passive, “Did I?” 

“Do you always have to answer my questions with questions?” 

“You’re observant.” 

Wooyoung paused, and he too flipped a page to act like he was busy, not like he was spending his time thinking about San’s overwhelming presence. It was soft, yet...powerful. Something tasted odd, something was _off_ , it was the same feeling the sea had been speaking to him about for the past month. Things were feeling different in Heuksando. 

“I don’t think I am observant- I think that you’re playing into what things are said about you.” And Wooyoung really didn’t know where that came from and why he was being so bold with Choi San, but he had nothing to lose. 

San maybe looked like he was surprised that Wooyoung said something like that, but maybe he looked like he wasn’t surprised- his face was blank, yet amusement was playing on his lips. 

“And what is being said about me, Jung Wooyoung?” 

Wooyoung licked his lips and he paused- ”That you are weird.” 

“They say that about you too, you know.” 

San had a fair point. 

“But-” 

“-but you have a gift and I have a curse, right?” 

“ _No_ , that wasn’t what I was going to say.” 

“It’s okay if you were. It’s true and that is what they do say.” 

“You’re not a curse, Choi San.” 

San seemed to smile to himself, and his bisque eyes flickered to San’s after tearing away from his files and his lips twitched. 

“What if-” he leaned back in his chair and it creaked like a rocking chair being held hostage by the sea wind, “-it was true? What if I am cursed? I know you really do have a gift so is it that far of a stretch to assume that I am damned? Forever shunned by the town’s people, like the rest of my family?” 

“You’re not.” 

“How would you know?” 

“It’s a secret.” Wooyoung replied, repeating San’s infamous line. 

San laughed, “Did the sea tell you that?” 

Wooyoung had always know that the elders pushed their agenda of Wooyoung being gifted to everyone, no matter the age. Even the twins believed it- it seemed like the generation before Wooyoung’s believed more than his, or his parent’s era. Nobody Wooyoung’s age had ever believed the stories though- maybe Choi San did, though. 

“No.” Wooyoung said curtly, going back to flip another page that he hadn’t read. 

San shrugged, “That’s a shame, it doesn’t tell me anything.” 

“It doesn’t tell anyone anything.” 

And Wooyoung wasn’t quite sure he felt the need to lie to everyone, including the people who believed he was a foamer- but something in him didn’t want to fully admit to it, he felt like it gave it _power_. He knew the power of words and he wasn’t about to let them have their life, not yet. 

“Funny, Jung Wooyoung.” 

He shrugged and slammed the book shut with finality and he got up from the counter and walked back towards the fiction section. Wooyoung put the book back and he grabbed another one as he spoke, “You act like you know everything, don’t you? Doesn’t it get tiring trying to convince everyone that you do?” He turned back to face him, the book hugged to his chest. 

San laughed, not offended, “I do know everything- well, more than most. I know that the sea speaks to you, I know that I am a curse, and I know that you have probably read that book in your hands a hundred times.” 

He had. 

Wooyoung walked back to the counter and he reopened the book anyways and resisted the urge to flip to page 394, already knowing his favorite scene. He shrugged his shoulders again, “You’re wrong, but okay.” 

He continued, the mixture of Choi San and annoyance was deadly because it made him more talkative than he had ever been in his life. Or, San was just too easy to talk to which was a little more than unsettling. 

“-I know that you’re annoying. I know that you’re not cursed. I know that people have categorized and made you into something you’re not and you embrace it. I’ll ask again, doesn’t it get tiring?” 

San sighed and he closed the files that he was still scanning with his eyes and he looked at Wooyoung, his stunning face impassive and blank enough for Wooyoung to draw on. 

“You don’t play the part that is assigned to you, I know that too, and I know that it is true that you’re gifted. The elders talk, the witches talk.” 

Wooyoung remembered the sea’s voice and whispers- 

_Witch. Witch. Witch._

“How do you know about the witches?” 

“How do _you_ know about the witches?” 

_The sea._

Wooyoung was silent and San smiled. “Did the sea warn you about them, or, did it just warn you about one?” 

Wooyoung tried to pull a San and keep his face still, but he felt his mouth twitch at the lie he was going to speak- 

“Don’t even bother with it, Jung Wooyoung. There isn’t any shame in being _tagonan_ , I think you’re special.” 

San didn’t say special with any mockery- in fact he looked genuine, the way he said it did make Wooyoung feel special. That didn’t stop his stomach from cartwheeling and giving him a warm ball of pleasure in the pit of it. He blinked and shook his head, still denying San’s words. 

San paused too, and it looked like he was seeing something just past Wooyoung’s left shoulder- and he smiled, quietly pleased. Wooyoung turned around- nothing was there. 

When he turned back around, San was looking at him and his eyes were heavy and dark- opposed to the smile he was supporting on his coy lips. He looked tired, Wooyoung noted. 

“Well, Wooyoung, duty calls and I have to go- don't miss me too much.” 

His eyes followed San’s dangling earring as it swung with his motion. San brought the record file back up to the counter where he was sitting and he sat it down with a quiet _thud_ , “Will you be here tomorrow?” San asked, scooting the papers his way. Wooyoung turned them around towards him and he shuffled them so they were even. 

“No, Hongjoong will be wor-” 

“What are you doing tomorrow?” 

Wooyoung squinted and he looked at the beautiful boy with suspicion. 

“Why?” He let the words come out slowly, hoping that San wasn’t going to ask him to come with him somewhere. But- a part of him secretly wished that San _was_ going to ask to steal him away. 

“No reason, I was just curious- and I might need your help with something.” 

“You have never needed me before.” 

San smirked, and Wooyoung felt his heart flutter- stupid boys. 

“ _You_ have never needed me before either, but that was before I realized that we needed each other.” 

Wooyoung confused, replied, “What would I need you for?” 

“To quieten the sea.” 

Then quietly, Wooyoung asked, "What do you need me for?"

San once more was close enough to kiss Wooyoung.

"To help me quieten the ghosts."


	2. Through the mist

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> READ: I just want to apologize for not updating for... *drum roll* ... five months. Oh my god, that should be a crime. I wrote Part 1 and then I was like "wow i hate this and myself" so I dropped it. Typically, I would delete it and act like it never happened- but for some reason I couldn't bring myself to delete it? Then, October, spooky season hit and I reread part 1 and thought _fuck it_ who cares if it sucks booty hole. So, now I have it planned out completely and I am excited!! I plan to update and finish, but expect very slow updates. I am only nothing but a mere college student :(

Wooyoung couldn’t sleep.

San kept replaying in his mind and coming back like the way the clouds and wind never seemed to leave the coverage of Heuksando- relentless. While the island is shrouded in gray, Wooyoung is shrouded by San’s sinful button down and his amber eyes. He kept hearing the sentence San uttered over, and over, and over, and over again that played the hum of the currents.

_Wooyoung confused, replied, “What would I need you for?”_

_“To quieten the Sea.”_

_Then quietly, Wooyoung asked, "What do you need me for?"_

_San once more was close enough to kiss Wooyoung._

_"To help me quieten the ghosts."_

It was true that San had quietened the Sea that was in a constant stream that played in his mind- he had brought an odd, fuzzy static that was consistent, but not to the point that it was annoying. If anything, Wooyoung’s ears cried salted tears in relief.

He wondered if there was a way to shut it off like San had done so easily. He wished that San was here just to put the voices to rest. It was something odd though- Wooyoung had gone to school with him his entire life but the Sea’s voice never stopped speaking to him when he was around San- ever.

Why now?

Also, Wooyoung wasn’t sure what San had meant by ghosts. Did he mean _actual_ ghosts that filled the island?

It wasn’t that Wooyoung didn’t believe in them- because there were plenty on Heuksando that had gotten lost at Sea. He knew they were real- they were entirely plausible and some were not happy here.

That, he could feel in the Sea too. Wooyoung had never seen a ghost but sometimes the water’s currents would carry the dead’s voice far, far enough to reach Wooyoung’s house and he would hear their pleas.

Many had died in the Yellow Sea.

He also knew of several rituals that involved ghosts- none were too pretty as it always involved in the blood or death of something to bring them to speak to you, nor was the water ever too picky in exactly _what_ blood you had brought it.

Although, cats were preferred.

But San- maybe he didn’t need any of that to speak to the dead.

Wooyoung remembers the way the children would talk in school of the infamous Choi San, the San who tried to not be seen or heard, it was almost like he wasn’t there; San tried to not exist.

But, children were cruel and they would always whisper about him being _jeoju_ , and a bad omen to Heuksando. Even Hongjoong had told Wooyoung one day at lunch, _”I heard that he killed his cat to speak to his parents- he hit him with a stone three times.”_

Wooyoung had never believed what the children said, but sometimes he would let Nanu talk and the rest of the elders. He would listen, act annoyed as he always does, but the elders always knew everything and they always saw everything.

If they knew that Wooyoung was gifted with the voice of the ocean, who says that they were wrong when they called San a curse? Not that Wooyoung believed San was necessarily a curse, but he did have _something_ and Wooyoung wasn’t quite sure what it was just yet. He knew that it was something, something ancient.

You couldn’t deny that. Despite believing the elders nonsense they typically spouted, he had meant what he said to San when he told him that he wasn’t cursed or damned for life.

If only San believed that himself- that _had_ to do with all that eccentric and electrified angst he was carrying around on his slender shoulders.

The light had begun to pool through his window painting his white curtains baby blue, and the mixture of cyan and muted black illuminated the hardwood floors. The house Wooyoung lived in with his mom was an old beach house turned to something one could consider regular with a victorian style to it’s interior.

Wooyoung had grown to love the house as he aged, loving the run-down look it held on the outside and he loved the way the floors creaked as he walked- it spoke of age and hums of storms.

The burnt flame ring that occupied the interior of his closet explained a lot- a summoning gone wrong.

He had been foolish to try it without consulting the Sea first.

But he couldn’t help the Sea of dreams that swarmed him in his slumber.

 

 

 

Jihyo answered the door, a hand on her hip.

“What do you want?”

Wooyoung scowled and he tapped Jihyo’s nose with the pad of his pointer finger- she swatted him away and narrowed her amber eyes.

“Brat. Is Joong here?”

Jihyo shrugged, “Maybe.”

Wooyoung playfully ruffled her hair and she desperately tried to escape Wooyoung’s strong arms and she screeched for her sister, Sana. Wooyoung laughed and successfully booped her nose this time and he leaned down, hands on both knees, to stoop down to the small child’s level of height.

She grinned a toothy smile, her hair sticking up from Wooyoung’s fingers.

“Sana isn’t going to come for you.”

“She always does.”

Wooyoung rolled his eyes pulling himself up and he side stepped around her small body, entering the Kim’s small living room.

The Kim’s too had revamped an old beach house, but their style was much more modern than the victorian style era that looped around Wooyoung’s place. The bright blue walls were welcoming and Wooyoung felt himself relax- even though the air had felt different tonight. Sana poked herself around the couch, her knees drawn up to her chin- she smiled an identical smile to Woo.

“Wooyoung!”

Jihyo kicked his leg from behind and she raised a tiny eyebrow.

“You smell like a witch.” She commented, her nose wrinkling like she was disgusted.

Sana sniffed the air too, her nose high in the air and she shrugged her small shoulders while hugging her body closer. Wooyoung noticed scrapes on her knees and shins- he needed to ask her about that later.

Wooyoung paused and he turned to Jihyo, “A witch?”

“Like Choi San.”

Wooyoung felt his heartbeat speed up and Jihyo leaned in closer to his stomach- as if she could hear his heart thumping wildly. “Nonsense,” Wooyoung laughed weakly, walking over to Sana and scooping her up in his arms, as she had her arms open wide waiting. She held him tight and smushed her cheek against his chest.

“His heart is beating fast, Wooyoungie is lying!”

Jihyo giggled and ran past Wooyoung, her hair bobbing like a wind chime in the east wind and she turned the corner with her laughter following after her down the hall.

Wooyoung sighed and he patted Sana’s head, trying to ignore the pull in his stomach that told him to question Jihyo more- she definitely knew _something_ that she shouldn’t- Wooyoung figured that Jihyo was coming to the age of realization about the secrets on the island.

Sana spoke in Wooyoung’s arms, her voice small. “Wooyoungie, I will always tell the truth to Jihyo. I will always come for her.” Wooyoung nodded, “Right, as you should… she is your sister.”

“As you should what?” Hongjoong’s voice spoke from the opposite way Jihyo ran, his head poking around the corner like Sana’s once did before. There was no denying the Kim’s relations to each other, they were the most alike siblings that Woo had ever encountered.

The twins and Hongjoong always seemed to be on the same wavelength, their actions and minds similar and strong in a sense. Wooyoung could feel their bond.

“Tell the truth.” Wooyoung replied to Hongjoong, swaying Sana in his arms as the legs of her pants fluttered.

Hongjoong smiled and he came forward to pet Sana’s head, adoration in his eyes.

“Are you giving Wooyoung a hard time?”

Sana gasped, her small mouth forming an _o_ and her face held offense. “No! Jihyo is.”

As if Jihyo had been summoned she came back around from the hallway and had her hand behind her back. Hongjoong narrowed his eyes, but fondness was playing in them.

“What do you have?”

“Something for Wooyoungie.”

Sana giggled, as if she already knew what it was. She reached her arms out for her brother and he scooped her into his embrace and poked her chubby cheek.

She did nothing but keep her eyes steady on her sister, who was staring at Wooyoung with her lips pursed.

“You two can’t tell anyone, okay?” Jihyo whispered, darting her eyes around the house. Wooyoung noticed that she almost looked scared of what she was about to speak.

Wooyoung felt worry rise in his stomach and he nodded- Hongjoong looked a little disturbed and he and Woo made eye contact. Jihyo’s small palms opened up to reveal a sand dollar, it’s design scratched up and the color was almost the shade of rust on an old town bicycle.

It’s patterns were wavy and held indentions of fingerprints- Wooyoung hoped they were human.

“Take it.”

Wooyoung hesitantly reached out, scared.

Hongjoong looked confused and he leaned down to Jihyo’s level, “What is that?”

Wooyoung took it from her palm and he turned it over in his hand, letting his thumb run over the grooves and ridges- it was _old._

The Sea whispered something it had said before.

 

_Witch._

 

Jihyo smiled, “Protection against the witch. Against Choi San.”

Hongjoong tried to take it from Jihyo’s hand but she hurriedly pulled it to her chest and she narrowed her eyes, “ _You_ don’t need it Hongjoong.” She then locked eyes with Wooyoung and she gave him a small smile with her warm palm opened towards him. “Here.”

Hongjoong only rolled his eyes and Wooyoung took it from her hand, their eyes never breaking and although Jihyo was only seven years old, she terrified him for a tiny moment.

 

_“She said she walked in and she had the bathtub already filled and that it was practically overflowing and spilling onto the floor but it was like Jihyo didn’t even notice. She didn’t even turn around or act caught when mom walked in.”_

_Hongjoong bit his nails and his eyes darted to the Sea, raindrops now slowly hitting their bodies as they stood. Wooyoung pulled Hongjoong off the rock and they began to jog back, the rain still in a steady drizzle._

_“Where was Sana?”_

_“In her room crying- Jihyo had hit her and she was bleeding. Mom had to shake Jihyo to get her to listen.”_

_“What did she say afterwards?”_

_“Nothing.”_

 

“Jihyo, stop-”

“Wooyoung is a witch too.”

“ _Jih-_ ”

“It’s fine Joong- they’re just children repeating what they have heard.” Wooyoung laughed- though, it sounded nervous as he dropped the sand dollar in his hoodie pouch.

Hongjoong caught his eye. “Shoo.” Hongjoong then waved his thin fingers towards the girls and they both giggled, pulling away from the boys and they scattered. Seeming to drift away like the tides.

_You have a bad habit of lying, Jung Wooyoung._

Hongjoong scoffed and he turned his head towards Wooyoung, who had sat himself on the arm of the opposite couch.

“Poor Choi San.” He murmured running a slim hand through his hair and huffing a breath of air that moved his bangs in their wind. “I haven’t even seen him in like, what, three months?”

Wooyoung laughed weakly and he put his hands in the pockets of his hoodie as he spoke, “He actually came in to the bookstore yesterday.” Hongjoong pulled himself up, now sitting properly and he cocked his head, “Really? What has he been up to? It’s been a while, hasn't it?”

Wooyoung nodded, “Yeah.” He paused and he fiddled with his hoodie strings, watching the fabric bunch around the neck as he pulled them opposite directions of each other, two opposing forces that looked the same.

“I don’t really know what he has been up to, he didn’t even mention that he had basically been gone for three months but I suppose he went to the mainland for a while after graduation-”

“-I don’t blame him.” Hongjoong said, his eyes quickly getting that tired look back in them. Hongjoong’s eyes had deep purple bags that seemed to sag and Wooyoung noticed in the way his eyelids looked veiny and stressed- as if he were keeping his eyes open all night.

Wooyoung hummed in minor agreement, and continued, “He came in while it was storming and he wanted the records from the Jindo Miracle Sea Road Festival, but I am not sure why? Maybe casual brushing up on the subject.”

Hongjoong pulled himself forward, resting his elbows on his thighs and he chewed on his thumb nail, “Well, it is coming up soon. Mom has been making the girls choose the patterns and colors of the dresses they want, she also is making them contribute to the dishes.”

“Makgeolli?”

“Indeed.” Hongjoong grinned.

It was silent, only the hum of the fridge filling the void as the two sat in a comfortable moment. Hongjoong started, but the tired look in his eyes were back.

“So, Choi San was really at the store yesterday? What happened.”

_He was close enough to kiss me_

“He was?” Hongjoong asked, his eyes wide but his mouth pleased. “That is cute.”

Wooyoung spluttered- he didn’t know he had said that out loud. He hoped that it wouldn’t happen when he was in the presence of Choi San… not that he expected. But, it would be embarrassing to blurt out how hot he thought he was.

_Your dangly earring is really hot for some reason, bro_

Wooyoung blushed at the thought.

“You’re blushing!”

“I am _not_ ,” Wooyoung cried as he tossed a pillow his best friend’s way. Joong caught it and he tossed at a Sana who was peering around the couch. Her tiny face low and her hair flopping over one ear- Jihyo popped out to pull her sister back with a squeak.

“Eavesdropping.” Wooyoung tisked playfully at the two girls.

Sana did nothing but stick her tongue out.

“Anyways, the elders would all keel over in their barstools if they saw the two of you together and it would be absolutely magnificent.”

Wooyoung pictured Nanu spitting his whiskey over Heejin, his face in shock as San would lean in towards Wooyoung… their mouths close enough to brush.

“I don’t think it would be funny.” Jihyo commented.

Hongjoong tossed a second couch pillow their way.

 

 

 

 

Choi San was in his bedroom.

No, correction, he was on his _bed._

The way back from Hongjoong’s wasn’t very long on bike (although it used to be whenever Wooyoung had his old bike. The tires were rusty from the salty air and it would take ages to pedal back as he pushed the muddy dust back into the ground) but he had found relief when he could see his house peek over the prairie grass.

Sometimes, Wooyoung was afraid that his home was just part of his imagination and that one day he would pull his bike up and open the door- only to see nothing there. The door would just be a random door in the middle of the island and it would only be the other side.

His relief was short lived when a very pretty San was stretched across his bed like a cat.

“What the fuck.”

San, had the audacity to look like he was the one who had been disturbed- he narrowed his eyes and he put down Wooyoung’s book. _A modern take on Burgers_

The Sea was silent again.

That was relieving, if he had to take one positive thing- not that, he was already feeling better after the initial shock. “I,” San began, sitting up, “- am in your bedroom. You could decorate more.”

“You _could_ leave.” Wooyoung said, tossing his hoodie on his desk and trying his best to look annoyed.

“You don’t want me to. And, plus, I need you for something.”

_Wooyoung confused, replied, “What would I need you for?”_

_“To quieten the Sea.”_

_Then quietly, Wooyoung asked, "What do you need me for?"_

_San once more was close enough to kiss Wooyoung._

_"To help me quieten the ghosts."_

Wooyoung hummed, “Yeah, no.”

“Why?”

Wooyoung finally allowed himself to take in San, who was staring with his head tilted. A branch scraped at his window from the east wind and Wooyoung jumped- San didn’t move.

“Jumpy.”

“Annoying.” He fired back, pulling the curtains closed hoping that he could ignore the Sea stirring up wildly.

San’s amber eyes glittered and his lips pulled up, “I don’t remember you being this talkative in high school.” Wooyoung busied himself, ignoring the fact that he still wasn’t trying to shoo Choi San out of his house, and he played with lighting his candle on his windowsill.

“Careful lighting that, you’re going to burn yourself.”

Wind seemed to be coming from nowhere and it was blowing the dusky flame away from the braided cotton.

He ignored San but the flame licked upwards and brushed over his thumb knuckle with a lightning dash of pain.

“Fu-”

San was already there, pulling the lighter from Wooyoung’s hands carefully and he lit the wick in one quick swoop, as if the wind didn’t mind him taking home in his presence.

_What are you good for, Sea?_

The east wind let the branch smack the window again in response to Wooyoung’s question.

“I told you to be careful.” San sighed, his silk sleeves brushing Wooyoung’s arm. He shivered and hoped that San didn’t pick up on it but he was not going to kid himself.

Knowing San, he probably picked up on it two days ago before anything ever happened.

“I do not believe in ghosts.”

San turned his head towards Wooyoung and Woo had to remind himself not to stare at his lips. He kept his body still and hoped that he seemed steady and assured, like he really didn’t believe them. He wasn’t sure why he kept running.

Maybe he did not want it to be true, because admitting things only brings it to life which is much like the Sea. San kept his eyes blank too but Wooyoung thought he could see a bit of disappointment in his jaw, in the way his fingers tapped over his earring.

“Is that what you tell the summoning circle in your closet?”

“It was already there.”

“No, the ghost in the house was already there. The circle was not there until you did it to make the ghost go away- it’s like you think I was born yesterday.” He commented, now playing with the lighter. He watched the flames rise and slam down as they danced in the wind, the wind in the house.

“Who let you in?”

“Who taught you to avoid anything that involves your gift? It must be tiring.” San said, copying Wooyoung’s words in the bookstore.

“The summoning circle wasn’t to make the ghost go away.” He says, but then immediately regrets it. It was like ice water was being poured down his back and over his ears.

Water so cold, water from the Sea that came in from the arctic and mixed bloods with the Yellow. An orchestra of polar waters and polar opposites, too tired to fight and pull back. It was like once they embraced each other, each one could breathe easier.

Wooyoung always figured that saying these things out loud would make him seem crazy, not that the elders would think this of course. They would pat him on the back and kiss him on the cheek, their voices boisterous and chirpy.

“Finally! How about a drink, boy? Heejin can you pour him one, I am ready to get all the island secrets out of him. My mother could only remember so many.”

So many people had pushed at him, telling him to ignore the old people who still believed in nonsense like that, to ignore everyone calling him a gift and a foamer.

A speaker of the Sea, a speaker for the Sea. He didn’t want to be different, no matter how cheesy and quirky that sounded to others- Wooyoung wanted to just go about his life and live happily. To take in the grey sky, to look out at the Sea and not hear bloodied whispers and to not have actual blood in his mouth. What would it be like to just love the island he grew up on?

He could always leave.

“Was it to make it stay?” San’s voice was soft and his eyes too. Although, his voice was always soft and sing-song, silver-belled chimes that rattled outside the grocery store and outside Heejin's house, chimes on the collars of cats that whistled when storms grew near.

“No.” Wooyoung whispered.

Rain pattered on the roof and lazily danced down the big windows of his room like ballerina tears. He watched a ballerina do a Grande Jeté with her graceful deer legs.

Wooyoung did not notice how close San was, but if he wanted he could pull the hair that was tickling his brow behind his ear. But that seemed silly. It was still light outside despite the rain that was coating Heuksando.

“I was trying to talk to it.” Wooyoung said, stepping back to avoid eye contact.

He turned around to his desk and began straightening books to act like he had something to do, but he spoke as he rearranged them from largest to smallest.

He felt like he was out of his body as he spoke, detaching himself from the truth he was finally speaking, the truth that he never imagined uttering out to anyone. Let alone, San, who got into his house, into his bedroom, and demanded answers.

From someone he had never really spoken to until yesterday- he felt like he was in a fast paced novel that the main character was made dumb in. He felt so, so, dumb.

“When we first moved from our old house to this one, everything was fine. I was seven, but- the… the Sea had yet to really bother me.”

San leaned against the large windowsill and he looked out over the Sea as Wooyoung talked.

“Then I remember I woke up with a lot of blood in my mouth and all these whispers just wouldn’t fucking _leave_ and they did nothing but take up my time and energy. I couldn’t do anything about it because they never made sense. Some spoke in Korean but it was so old and broken that I couldn’t make out anything. The rest of the voices were foreign and from the mainland maybe- I dunno. I can’t ever understand them. So, I ignored them. The only real clear voice was the Sea and it didn’t give me much to work with. But, I remember there was this voice that was incredibly clear and real and _scary _.”__

__“The ghost?” San guessed._ _

__“Yeah.”_ _

__San opened up Wooyoung’s curtains again, letting the light pool in and he spun his delicate silver chains around on his wrist. Wooyoung’s eye caught a small wooden carving hanging from a multicolored bracelet- a tiny sand dollar._ _

__“Then, I woke up to a face right in mine.”_ _

__San’s eyes flickered to Wooyoung’s and he looked sympathetic, like he understood._ _

__“Her eyes were these big... hollow pits and her hair was_ soaked_ and dripping all over my sheets that my mom had just bought. I was silent as she just stared at me and she just opened her mouth-” Wooyoung stopped to gather his thoughts, and he tried to bring back the memory he tried so hard to forget. It kind of felt good to spill it all. “- and it was just strings of flesh, it was like looking into a meat shredder at the butcher shop in town.

It made me think of the time I accidentally wandered into the back and I saw Daejung running the calf through the metal spikes. Her mouth was without teeth and it was so- so- _so_... terrifying. I had never felt so scared in my entire life. She just kept her mouth open with her eyes gone and she sat like that.

I think I screamed because my mom came running in. The girl didn’t leave and I was just pointing at her telling my mom to make her _go away_.”

“Did she leave?”

“No.”

San opened his closet door and peered in, then squatted down to trace the burnt ring with his own fingers, a different type of rings littering them. “So you tried to talk to her.” It was not a question, he was posing it as a statement.

“Was that the wrong thing to do?”

San sent him a soft smile, “No. She appreciated it.”

Wooyoung stepped back, ice washing over his shoulders again and he felt the hairs on his neck rise like the first time Choi San had walked into the store.

“And- and how do you know that?”

San said nothing as he stood up and walked towards Wooyoung, but it was careful. He stopped in front of him, their shoe tips touching but Wooyoung didn’t mind the personal space invasion. It almost felt natural and authentic like he had known San for years, he felt like Hongjoong.

“You’re crying.”

Wooyoung could only laugh weakly, “Well, that is embarrassing.”

San’s silky black shirt caught the candle light and he shrugged, “Nah, it happens. I used to cry a lot over a lot of things, it happens. You are only human.”

“Only witch.” Wooyoung said miserably.

“Still human. Still a person. Still a gift.”

Wooyoung wiped a tear away and felt his legs shake underneath him, San reached out to steady him and his hands were surprisingly warm- he did not expect them to feel that way.

“In that sense, you’re still a gift too.”

San smiled, his eyes glittering and he winked, “No, I am a curse. And human. I am special.”

Wooyoung, felt his head tilt, “What makes you the curse?”

San spun around lightly, like they weren’t discussing ghosts and whispers and secrets. He shrugged and turned his head to bat his lashes at Wooyoung. “Now, that is a good question. One that you can find out if you help me.”

“Let me guess… we are talking to a ghost?” Wooyoung jokes, trying to lighten the mood that drenched the curtains and walls. He felt it roll down the skin of his legs and his fingertips.

“Yeah.”

Wooyoung blanched and he felt his hip hit the desk because he had taken so many steps back- the candle flame shook in the light.

“You’re joking, right?”

“Hmm, no? We are talking to several, actually. Like, gates of hell opening several.” San said pawing through Wooyoung’s closet- he sniffed Wooyoung’s sleep shirt.

“Salty,” he commented.

Wooyoung still felt his fingers keep their iron grip on the edge of the cherrywood desk and he leaned forward. Wooyoung’s bangs fell over his eyebrows and he raised them high, “You’re crazy. I haven’t seen a ghost in a while and I don’t plan on it.”

San furrowed his brows, “You said she didn’t leave.”

“Not that day. She didn’t leave until I gave her a voice and all she could do was scream and wail- then she just smacked her fucking bloody hand on my wall and threw herself out to sea. I haven’t seen her since.”

“She came back, Wooyoung.”

It was silent and an old fear that he had not felt since he was 14, raised back up his throat like bile and it sat in his mouth uncomfortably. It was the type of fear that plagued him when he finally decided to go past his stomach in the water, the fear he felt when the Sea tried to drag him out and all of the voices were screaming at him like madmen. That kind of fucking fear.

“You just can’t see her, that is all.”

The house creaked and groaned as it always did, but this time Wooyoung couldn’t settle with the house properly. The rocking chair that got taken by the wind was back at his house and rattling his lungs and creating a whole storm in his head.

Wooyoung’s voice cracked, “You’re joking.”

“Dead serious.” San said, then paused to take in his words, and he smiled to himself.

“You’re not a ghost, are you?” Wooyoung said now stepping forward to touch San’s forehead. San watched intensely as Wooyoung hurriedly poked at him, tugging on his ear. San was silent as Wooyoung ran a hand through his very real hair and their eyes met.

“No, Jung Wooyoung, I am not a ghost. I can just see them and speak to them, which is as simple as it sounds. As simple as you being able to talk to the sea and hear their whispers.” He gently clutched Wooyoung’s wrist from his hair and brought it down to the charm necklaces that danced on his chest. His heart was steady and real.  
“You can hear the Sea, which hosts the ghosts. I can hear the ghosts speak, which I can see. You can quieten the ghosts, and I can quieten the Sea. Quite a nice balance, if you ask me personally.”

Wooyoung pondered over his words and he let them wash over him and he embraced the tides. With San around he really did quieten everything that was going haywire around him and he closed his eyes for a moment- wondering what San could possibly need from him.

His body, his blood, his ability to hear what the waters were trying to scream to everyone? “What do you need help with?” Wooyoung asked.

_Too late to take it back now._

San’s eyes seemed shocked for a moment but he recovered so fast that Wooyoung could have imagined it- maybe. “Honestly didn’t expect you to agree.”

So, he _was_ surprised.

“Am I sacrificing myself?”

San laughed, a real laugh that was loud and giggly and so cute. Wooyoung felt himself smile.

“No, Wooyoung, you do not have to offer your body to the sea, nor do we need your blood. We need the Sea’s blood- the one that fills up your pretty little mouth.”

Wooyoung kept his face blank, “So my blood.”

San let his finger trace over Wooyoung’s jaw and he pushed his lips to the side in amusement- “Actually it is the Sea’s blood. Not yours. What does it taste like?”

_Do you wanna find out?_

And yeah, he did not know where that came from. His mind tends to short circuit around pretty boys who call _his_ mouth pretty.

“My, my Jung Wooyoung, I wasn’t expecting that.”

Wooyoung felt his face flame up like the candle that burnt his knuckles and he kind of wanted to die on the spot, maybe joining the ghosts was not a bad thing. He could be happy and haunting right?

Right?

San peered around him and did that to both sides of Wooyoung as he studied his blooming red face, “And by the looks of it, you weren’t expecting that either.” He laughed loudly and straightened Wooyoung’s collar of his t-shirt and smirked.

“Here is the plan.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come follow me on twitter @wooyooungies and cry with me
> 
> If you enjoyed, don't forget to leave a kudos or a comment MWAH <3


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